Last Song
by tentaikansoku
Summary: Hurricanger. Ikkou, Isshu, Yousuke. Affection and admiration.


**Last Song**

Gently he moved his face towards mine, looking deep into my eyes, deep into my soul, his hand brushing against my face, pulling me towards him, our faces so close that I could feel his breath gently caressing my face. I couldn't resist him, I never had been able to, and so I let his gaze draw me in, our lips touching, the sweetness of his open mouth, our tongues meeting briefly, and the kiss deepening. His eyes remained open as he drank in my love, my lust for him. His hands reached beneath my clothes, and suddenly I felt as if I were on fire.

I awoke, drenched with sweat and shivering madly on a now sodden futon. Several paces across the tatami from my shivering body lay that of my brother. A face that appeared almost angelic bathed in the pure stream of moonlight that flooded the building. As I watched, his steady breathing became ragged, an erratic pulse pumping in his temples. I felt an ache in my groin as I realised that the innocent sleeping face of my brother was a façade that masked a dream of erotic intent. Curious and now throbbing, I reached forward to take him in my arms, to continue the second act of my own reverie. It was within that moment that the dull yearning in my testicles was replaced with an agony that surmounted any pain that I had ever felt, residing in my heart. For my brothers precious lips had uttered a name, and that name was not my own.

I can't recall how I got through the night, but when I awoke again the early sun had already broken through the darkness and painted everything in golden red tones. Soft grains fell through my fingers and I realised that I had vacated to the beach in some attempt to escape the treachery and betrayal that I felt in my heart. For a long time I studied the breaking waves as they stretched towards the sands, white crests of turmoil foaming and disappearing as they made their peace with the world. In a long moment of self-pity I allowed myself to envy the waves. I longed to be cleansed by the salted waters, to rid myself of passion and to fade out of the world as quietly as I had entered it. It was only with mild amusement at the sheer tender stupidity of my thoughts that I picked myself up from the warm comforting dunes of sand. A member of the Ikazuchi School, born into the Kasumi family, fighting was in my blood.

Unwilling to share my thoughts with my brother I decided to head home. Ideally he would just be waking up, and thus would not realise that I had spent the latter part of the night and consequently the early part of the morning with the sand as a pillow and the sound of the crashing waves as a lullaby.

Though as I made my way through the trees and over the dirt paths that threaded through the woods I heard the sound of voices. Surprised, I held my breath and hid in the undergrowth. Both voices were instantly recognisable to me, though why they should be together at such a time of the day was beyond my reasoning. Slowly I edged forward, fully aware of their acute senses honed to protect themselves from such stealthy creatures as myself. Very gently I parted the foliage between the voices and myself, careful not to make any more noise than that of a breeze tickling the leaves and branches. From my current viewpoint I could make out the slender figures of two men, both dressed entirely in black, wearing wide legged trousers and vest tops in which they could allow themselves total freedom of movement. To see them dressed in such a way relieved me entirely and I berated my mind for having made assumptions about their actions before I had any actual evidence. A name called out in one's sleep is not necessarily a sign that the dreamer and the one that is dreamed of are by any sexual way linked, but when I allowed my thoughts to roam over their physiques, their pretty faces and the bond that seemed to have sprung up between them over night, I had trouble keeping my mind straight.

Finding a new assurance in the fact that the two figures were not, as I had previously expected, naked, nor entwined within each other, I was suddenly hit by a new curiosity, what had they been talking about? Why were they together? Before I had a chance to procrastinate over either of these questions I heard my brother shouting my name. Slowly, lifting the aside the branches I saw my brother waving in my general direction, mirth covering his face, and that of the boy stood next to him. As I rose to stand straight and make my way through the undergrowth I began to think of an excuse I could use as to why I'd be hiding from the pair of them.

'Oi Isshu!'

'Oniisan' I replied, trying to bring my gaze up to meet his own and failing.

'Your ninja powers are weak, young man'

With this comment the man beside my brother collapsed into laughter once more. His hair fell softly across his face as he attempted to recompose himself.

'Isshu!' The grin that remained spread over his face was anything but harsh. Despite his mocking, a kind hearted softness shone through his features, and with another sting of pain I realised that I could see exactly what it was that my brother found so appealing in the young man.

'Yousuke.' I replied blushing slightly and trying to avoid eye contact. This was him, the man of my brothers dreams. Whose image that played in my brother's head, whilst he sweated and shook under the thin sheets. This was the man who first appeared to us as our mortal enemy, the opposition, and the symbol of everything we fought together against. The man that fought for us, believed in us, and extended his friendship and compassion. The man who first infuriated my brother with his kindness, the blatant weakness attached to his emotions, and then won him over with the very same gentle beliefs.

The man that has a way of staying inside your head, grinning or laughing, when you just want to be alone. The man that I want to hate, but who wins me over with every smile, every flick of his thick brown hair. The man who is my rival. My opponent for my brother's emotions.

'Well,' Yousuke turned back towards my brother. 'Thank you, Ikkou.' His head inclined slightly in a polite bow. One hand reaching up to smooth back his hair as both Yousuke and Ikkou's eyes met. Yousuke was still talking, something about meeting the others, but his words did not register, as I watched them. Their eyes locking for slightly longer then was necessary.

My stomach flipped and the image of Ikkou covered in sweat fled back to my mind, only this time he was not alone, the figure of Yosuke joined him. First laying next to him and then… A strained grunt left my lips as I pushed between the two, desperate to blink the film of tears back before they were noticed.

'Later, Youske.' A smile spread slowly over Ikkou's full lips, as he watched the slender body of Yousuke walk away through the forest, waving quickly and then darting away leaving only a blur of red, which hovered for a second before vanishing.

I remained standing to the side, watching my brother, his eyes not leaving the spot where Yousuke had been before his speed had been too fast to continue to monitor his movements. Slowly he turned towards me, only now noticing that I was blinking furiously, attempting to control the colour that was rising to my face.

'Isshu?' His face crumpled slightly, a line of worry knotted between his thick eyebrows as he made his way towards me. The softness in his voice and his concern stirred something deep within me. My heart felt lighter and my gaze became steady enough to look up at Ikkou's apprehensive face. He still cared for me, we were brothers, and we'd always be together. People like Shiina Yousuke didn't matter, we had a bond that was beyond that.

I reached out, wanting to hold my brothers hand or touch him on the shoulder, to feel him. Oblivious of my intentions he stepped away, a bemused smile on his face.

'He's coming on well, Yousuke, a lot stronger. He reminds me of you, Isshu, but more determined.' Ikkou grinned, but the pain of his words struck me violently. I'd known, that I was not a good enough fighter in Ikkou's mind. I'd known that I was clumsier than he was, my step not so light, not so precise. But I'd fought, fought harder then I had ever fought to conquer that, to become worthy of the Ikazuchi name, to become worthy of the Kasumi name. I had trained whilst my bruised body ached from previous fights, when it was all I could do not to scream and cry and give up there and then. I trained and I fought to see the glimmer of pride light up my brother's eyes, the pride that I would never see in our father's gaze. The pride that meant that I was good enough, and yet, as I continued to train and fight I had never seen that glint in Ikkou, not until today, and today he was describing someone else, Shiina Yousuke.

I saw red. To have spent my life fighting an endless struggle to be truly accepted, and to have seen the unobtainable taken so easily by a ninja from the Hayate school who knew nothing of our ways, the Ikazuchi ways, or even of their existence until we had met face to face. To see this stranger gain both my brothers pride, and my brothers heart. I could take it no longer.

Eyes flashing, I attacked. My hands sank into his firm arms, pulling my brother around to face me once again. His hands already began to cover his face, acting instinctively despite his confusion. My rage however could not be contained, and pulling one hand away I formed a fist driving it straight into the side of my brother's head. He stumbled slightly, losing his footing before posing in a fighting stance. A red mark now tainted his soft white skin, and I longed to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair, pushing it away from the offending bruise, but it was too late. I'd hit him, hard, and now he came at me. I felt the impact of his body as he pushed me to the ground. His strong muscles taught beneath the thin cotton vest. His arms wrapped around my body, restraining my own as they pushed their way to meet his flesh. My heart pumped, louder and louder drowning out all other sound. My back felt bruised and tender from the harsh fall that I had taken, but as I arched underneath Ikkou's strong body every pain began to arouse me. I could smell his sweat; feel his harsh breathing on my neck. I began to throb; every second of my dream came back to me, as I lay in Ikkou's fervent hold. He had stopped fighting and now lay beside me, our bodies pressed together, regaining breath.

I expected him to ask 'why?' to say something, to shout, but he remained calm, the gentle rise and fall of his chest now more regulated.

'Ikkou…' I tilted my head to see his face. His brown eyes shined as his soft lips parted slightly and then relaxed in a smile. 'I'm sorry.'

Ikkou nodded, and relief spread through me. Our bodies convulsed in a quick brotherly embrace before we pulled apart, and began to brush the leaves and mud from ourselves.

It was then that he spoke. At first it was just a small noise, to inform us of his presence, but then he began to talk, as if to cover for the embarrassment of our fight. Shiina Yousuke was back with us once again. My heart leapt. A tinge of pink crossed over his cheekbones, and I felt a similar flush within myself.

'Ahh, Yousuke' Ikkou sprang to his feet and grabbed his friend by the shoulder. Motioning to his left arm Yousuke spoke.

'I forgot to give this back.' His hand gripped a small wooden sword, gouged from use along the 'blade' and carved at the base for a better grip.

'Oniisan!' I recognised the sword as that of Ikkou's from when we were younger. We'd both been given one from our father when we first began our training, at an age when we were both so small that such a sword had been all but impossible to wave without hurting our arms let alone fight with it. My own sword had been broken long ago, in a training session with Ikkou. After the fight he'd been deemed worthy of a real sword and I'd been lent the one that was now being held in Yousuke's hand. I hadn't been aware that Ikkou had kept the sword. I hadn't been aware just how sentimental he was, and now he'd lent it to Yousuke. The simple gesture of my brother's spoke more than words.

'Next time…' Yousuke continued, 'I won't let you beat me.' His face broke widely into a smile, his cheeks coloured happily as his eyes shone.

My heart had yet again begun to beat with a fierce intensity, as I drank in Yousuke's image. It was clear to me now, why Ikkou had spent so long training with the Hayate ninja. The sparkle that lit his eyes, the glow that filled his face, the dedication that seemed to surround him like a halo. His features were soft and radiant, and I had to use all my will power not to reach out and brush the back of my hand over the gentle skin of his cheeks. I wanted to pull him to me, to put my lips to his, to drink the flames of passion and determination that danced in his very soul.

As Ikkou nodded, Yousuke bent down and placed the sword with a tender care at our feet. His face cast downwards, hair flowing over his features in the slight breeze.

I think, perhaps that I'd always seen this in him, from when we first met and battled against each other. This strength, this force that made him stand out, that made him so determined so powerful, and which now made him appear so beautiful to me. I'd known it and I'd fought against it, with as much of myself as I could. I'd made up scenarios to distance myself. Told myself that he was my rival, my enemy. It had all been to stop this, but this isn't something that I can fight. But after all this time, whilst my loyalty will always be to my brother, my heart now belongs to Shiina Yousuke of the Hayate School.


End file.
